


Grief Consumes Her

by freudensteins_monster



Series: March Prompt Meme [2]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Post-Thor (2011), Prompt Fic, Suicidal Thoughts, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 16:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10364688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: loyal-to-reylo asked for: Logyn: 29 "I thought you were dead"???? MAKE THAT SHIT ANGSTYAnd I tried to deliver.





	

Sigyn had to consider herself lucky. Despite the shame his treasonous acts had brought upon her the royal family hadn’t disowned her outright, instead they continued to support her, as they had agreed to when the marriage contracts were signed. Though they did subtly suggest that she might be more comfortable spending her mourning period at Belstaholmr, a large manor by the eastern sea.

Belstaholmr had been in Odin’s family for generations and was used as an occasional holiday home for the royal family, but only in the summer because in the winter it was utterly miserable. Sigyn, uncaring that she had been effectively cast out of Asgard, found that the bitter winds and turbulent seas fit her mood perfectly.

She spent her days locked away in her room with naught but her books for companionship, only venturing out at night for a small meal before wandering the hallways in a daze, her eyes empty and her dark gown whispering across the stone floors. The household staff thought Sigyn haunted by her late husband’s ghost, and Sigyn found some small joy in being able to unnerve them so. The residual influence of her trickster husband, she had no doubt.

When the petty mind games began to bore her started venturing out onto the grounds on calmer days, often finding herself standing on the edge of a cliff, staring out over the dark blue water to the void beyond. The staff thought her lost in her grief, but in truth Sigyn had lost her husband a long time ago. Sigyn didn’t dare think about how long it took Loki to break his vows to her, it hurt enough just to know that he did, time and time again. When she really wanted to suffer she asked herself if they had ever been happy or if Loki had ever truly loved her, questions she had never been able to answer.

The queen visited her, several months into her sentence (for it certainly wasn’t freedom), bringing with her several unseasonably warm days. They talked of nothing much, the wellbeing of their extended families and court gossip, skirting around their supposedly shared grief. Queen Frigga did her best to comfort Sigyn, as she had in the days following Loki’s fall, but just as before it was politely accepted, though they both knew Sigyn had no intention of burdening the queen with her misery. The queen returned to Asgard at weeks end, leaving behind a vial of something to help Sigyn sleep, and a vial of something else that was supposed to help elevate her moods and dig her out of her depression. Sigyn threw them both out onto the paved driveway the moment the queen was out of sight and locked herself in her rooms until her maid hammered on her door, begging her to eat something.

It wasn’t until six months after Loki’s death that Sigyn began to feel truly haunted by him. Books began to disappear from the library shelves, books only Loki would be interested in, only to reappear a few days later. And when Sigyn went to dress of a morning she found her preferred black gowns replaced with Loki’s favourite emerald ones. And then he began to feature in her dreams, new dreams of things that never happened and never would, not the same old memories she tortured herself with, and when she woke up she could swear she could feel residual body heat in the empty space beside her.

When it all became too much to bear, and she found herself on the verge of writing to Frigga for help, Sigyn searched her mind for the most logical explanation. Hoping that she was wrong Sigyn went to bed that night, forgoing her usual bottle of wine, and waited.

The clock in the hall had just chimed three when Sigyn heard the door to her bedchambers creak open. She willed herself not to react as soft footfalls moved towards her bed but the moment a body sunk down onto the mattress beside her she shot out of bed and illuminated the room.

She stared mutely at the ghost sitting upon her bed and when it became clear that he would not be the first to speak she said the only thing that came to mind.

“I thought you were dead.”

“So did I,” Loki jested weakly.

“No…” Sigyn murmured, shaking her head violently. “You died. You’re dead,” she began to wail, backing away from the bed, her hands tearing at her hair.

“I’m not,” Loki swore, rushing to her side and taking her hands in his before she hurt herself. “I’m right here, Sigyn. I’m not dead.”

“I wish you’d stayed dead!” Sigyn screamed, shoving Loki hard in the chest and making her escape. She raced down the hall and down the stairs, her bare feet slapping against the cold stone floors. She heard Loki chasing after her as she reached the gardens and did her damnedest to outpace him. When the cliff came into view Loki called her name, begging her to stop. And she did, right at the edge, still too afraid to take that last step, the one she’d been thinking about since Loki had fallen from the Bifrost.

“Sigyn, please!” Loki begged, keeping his distance, all too aware of how close Sigyn was to the edge. “You don’t want to do this. Please.”

“Oh” Sigyn laughed bitterly as the icy wind tore the tears from her cheeks. “You think I don’t crave an end to this torment? I have thought of nothing else.”

“And you will not find it in the void, only more pain, of this I can assure you.”

With a heavy sigh Loki let go of glamour he was shrouded in and Sigyn couldn’t stop the gasp of sympathy that escaped her trembling lips.

His skin was sickly pale with light sheen of sweat, dark circles ringed his eyes, and without the glamour it was clear he was having trouble holding himself upright.

“Please don’t jump, Sigyn,” Loki pleaded. “I promise you that the pain I have caused you will pale in comparison to what awaits you. Please… Please, Sigyn,” Loki beseeched, inching closer until he was able to take her by the wrist and pull her away from the crumbling edge.

Sigyn screamed and thrashed against Loki’s vice-like grip until all the fight drained out of her. She broke down sobbing, clinging to her once and always husband until the sun rose over the sea.


End file.
